


Well... You Know the Rest

by CloudAtlas



Series: All Hallows Eve 2014, Be_Compromised Style [10]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Caretaking, F/F, F/M, Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAtlas/pseuds/CloudAtlas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate turns up in Bed Stuy to find Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well... You Know the Rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shenshen77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenshen77/gifts).



> _When you can't run anymore, you crawl, and when you can't do that, well — yeah, you know the rest._  
>  \- Tracey, The Message, Firefly

Kate wrinkles her nose as she lets herself into Clint’s place. It smells of sickness which, she guesses, explains why she hasn’t heard from him in a while. It wouldn’t kill him to let her know though. She could’ve brought _soup_ ; she’s a nice mentee like that.

Clint’s curled up on the couch under what looks like every blanket and duvet he owns, looking huge, formless and very ill. Kate contemplates fake joviality to jolt him awake, but decides she’s not that mean. Instead she shakes his shoulder gently, smiling when he jerks awake.

“Wha – ?”

“Hello Hawkeye,” she says quietly. “You alright?”

Clint makes some formless noise, blinking blearily at her, but before she can say anything else the pile of duvets moves and Kate has just a second to think _who gives a blowjob to a sick guy?_ – because her brain is apparently a perv – before _Natasha Romanov_ emerges looking, if possible, even worse than Clint.

“Mrrg,” Natasha says, squinting at the room before her gaze lands on Kate.

Kate squeaks a little before looking confusedly at Clint.

“Was…” Clint manages, voice like sandpaper, before he starts coughing. Natasha groans as he jostles her, and Kate wonders how the hell this became her life. 

“Was helping,” he manages eventually. “Got ill.”

Natasha Romanov apparently goes to Clint when she’s ill. For a moment Kate just marvels at Clint’s ability to attracted utterly spectacular women.

“Have you eaten?” she asks eventually, because trying to understand Clint Barton is an undertaking to last a lifetime, and honestly, right now Kate has better things to be doing.

Clint shakes his head before squeezing is eyes shut, presumably to stop his brain trying to fall out of his face. Next to him, Natasha makes the sort of noise that Kate is sure translates as ‘If I eat I’ll throw up’.

“Water then?”

They both nod, and Kate goes into the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water before rummaging around in Clint’s bathroom for painkillers and Tylenol. 

“Here,” she says when she comes back, holding out the glasses to the two of them. With hands steady as ever, Clint helps Natasha to sip small mouthfuls until she’s finished her glass before taking his own. He then swallows down some painkillers and forces Tylenol on Natasha, before collapsing back into the cushions. Natasha whimpers – actually _whimpers_ – and curls herself under Clint’s arm, shivering and pushing the duvet off onto the floor.

She’s wearing Clint’s bullseye t-shirt.

Seriously, how does Clint manage to get all these stunning women? 

Kate tears her gaze away from the pale skin of Natasha’s thigh and the way her hand is fisted in his t-shirt, looking instead at Clint. He's flushed, but she can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or just the fever. He’s ill enough that he doesn’t even bother with his usual smug little smile, though. 

“Where’s Lucky?” Kate asks after a moment.

“Simone’s.”

Kate nods. Clint takes better care of that dog than he does of himself. Figures.

“You two gonna be alright?”

Natasha is shivering again, and Clint tries gracelessly to haul the duvet back off the floor, failing miserably until Kate helps, tucking the edges around Natasha’s body.

“Yeah,” he croaks, looking down at Natasha with such uncensored fondness Kate bypasses mocking and falls face first into jealous.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” she says eventually. “I’m… I’m going to America’s.” 

Kate has the sudden need to curl up on the couch with her.

“Tell her hi from me,” Clint manages, tilting his head to smile at her.

Kate nods. 

“Call me if you need me,” she says, and Clint nods back.

She’s almost at the door when Clint speaks again.

“Thanks Hawkeye.”

“Any time Hawkeye.”


End file.
